Here we go again
New year, new me, pah.
I know that if I want to be taken seriously as a writer (ha) I should plan my stacks, essays, or what will you, and that I should be making food from my own recipes all the time in order to share them with my valiant reader (I daren’t use a plural because the algorithm will think I’m getting above myself), but I don’t plan, and I don’t cook all the time. Well, I do cook all the time, and I do love doing that, but mostly it’s just getting creative with whatever I find in the fridge or the pantry cupboard (I have a pantry cupboard), especially this time of year when we are still eating the remains of Christmas and New Year feasting, and that can only a recipe if you have exactly the same leftovers (unidentified cheese ends, half a squash, something squished in tub with burnt parsnips, fancy chocolates in red wrappers).
So this post, stack, essay (what the ARE these?) is not planned. But it is angry and frustrated and just a little bit pissed off that the very start of a new year (which means what exactly? anyone? it’s not new, it’s the same as it was yesterday, day before etc, only we do have some sun today which is nice) we are already being subjected to the orange gorgon’s idea of a good time (kidnapping other dictators and killing innocent bystanders) while being fed information about all the other illegal things he has done and yet NOTHING happens. He hasn’t been arrested. Why not? WHY?
So, anyway. That’s out of my system, thanks for your time and attention.
Skimming the headlines in the Guardian this morning I saw this - “the tofu dip alone is worth booking a table for”. This is from a restaurant review for a place in London (natch) by Grace Dent. Don’t get me wrong, I am very partial to GD. She is pithy and funny and not a snob about food. But dear god, does anyone care anymore? I mean, since the vastness that is Jay Raynor left the Observer for the FT and everyone could breathe again without coughing up one of his chewed up opinions, I thought maybe restaurant reviewing might become something other than a free lunch machine for writers who ought to know better. Maybe they could actually write about the hospitality industry and help make people understand why it is so hard to run a restaurant, cafe or pub these days? But no, that’s not sexy and aspirational and the hunt for the perfect tofu dip must continue. That said, the restaurant she is talking about does sound lovely and I would quite like to go there one day, so I suppose her work there is done.
I have just been on the phone to EE (could have been any phone provider, or indeed provider of any ‘service’ these days). My son, beloved fruit of my loins, has once again got a phone issue. This time at least it is a gadget fault and it hasn't been left in a taxi or dropped down the loo. The battery is swelling and pushing the screen out and it can only be used while on charge. This seems a dangerous set of circs so we are looking at claiming for another on the insurance for which he pays handsomely (and to be fair, uses regularly). Now, I hear you all thinking, why does this involve me when this young man is a fully grown adult? I hold the account for his and my phones, a thing that was set up many moons ago. He does now pay for his phone, usually, but for some reason it always seems like a good idea to keep it like this every time the contract comes up for renewal. I’m damned if I can remember what the reason was last time but here we are again anyway, this last vestige of the umbilical cord being stretched to its limit by the relentlessness of having to call 150 and be told by some chirpy harpy, after the ear splitting pap muzak, that EE has won awards for x number of years in a row… but of course the insurance dept, when you finally get through, they have a computer there which has gone ‘down’. Just the one obviously, times is ‘ard. It’s the bit that can process the claim. I expect its battery is bulging and pushing the screen out and no one knows what to do because it’s Sunday.
Talking of important and pressing world issues I have decided that I will now and always return to Bristol to get my hair cut. When one reaches a certain age and one’s hair is white, one needs one’s hair to look as though there is intention behind the style. Gone are the days of tousled, dark, shiny locks, styled by getting-out-of-bed. I am resigned to it and now my hair will be cut by Anna who I met just before Christmas and despite having double booked me with someone else managed to cut my hair in time for me get on the road and home by 6pm. I am always dubious about new hairdressers, new cuts etc, and have to wait for a couple of days for it to settle. Well, it has, and while I can still look like a demented crone first thing in the morning I can tame it, make it look intentional, a little bit Dame Judi, a little bit Audrey Tatou, you know, pixie meets bob, age 64.
(There are other lovely reasons for visiting Bristol on a regular basis, they know who they are, so it’s about killing more birds with the same stone - which is a horrible image and I will never ever again use that term.)
As I mentioned at the beginning of this rant, this has not been planned, I have no new recipe of my own to share, so I am going to share my friend Rosie’s recipe of squash stuffed with lentils, partly because I have a chunk of squash to use so I plan (look at me planning and everything) to make this later, and partly because it’s a perfect recipe to soothe the over worked, post-Christmas/NY gut.
Squash stuffed with lentils
By Rosie Sykes (from the Guardian 9/10/24)
Tinned lentils are such a brilliant, quick cupboard staple, though dried ones would work here, too: replace the tin with 200g washed dried lentils soaked in 600ml water or vegetable stock, and extend the cooking time to ensure they are tender. You can, of course, leave out the lardons if you want to make the dish vegetarian. As for the squash, that’s more or less up to you – there are many varieties to choose from: I like acorn, kabocha, harlequin or red kuri. Here, I’ve cut the squash into rounds and removed the seeds, but you could also cut it in half and deseed to make a neat cavity for the lentil stuffing; shave a bit off the base, too, so the squash halves sit nicely on the tray. If you cook it this way, the squash will take longer to roast but, presentation-wise, it looks fantastic.
Prep 20 min
Cook 1 hr 30 min
Serves 4
5 tbsp light olive oil
100g lardons, free-range for preference (optional)
2 medium onions, peeled and sliced
Sea salt and black pepper
1 leek, trimmed, cut in half lengthways, then finely sliced (use as much as green as possible) and washed
3 sticks celery, trimmed, washed and finely sliced
2 carrots, peeled, cut in half lengthways, then cut into fine half-moons
3 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced
2 heaped tbsp tomato paste, or 200ml passata
410g tin green lentils, undrained
1 sprig each thyme and rosemary, and 1 bay leaf (or whatever you have to hand)
2 tbsp sherry vinegar
200ml vegetable stock
1 small-medium squash (about 800g), unpeeled, cut into 2cm-thick rounds and deseeded
To finish
350g creme fraiche, or greek yoghurt or fromage frais
1 egg
200g grated cheese – this is a good place to use up any bits and bobs
50g breadcrumbs
1 small handful flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
Heat the oven to 200C (180C fan)/390F/gas 6. Put a tablespoon of the oil in a small casserole for which you have a lid, and put it in the oven to heat up. Once the oil is hot, add the lardons, if using, return the casserole to the oven uncovered and cook for five or so minutes, until the bacon is crisp.
Use a slotted spoon to transfer the lardons to a plate, leaving all the fat behind in the casserole, then add the onions, a splash more oil and a good pinch of salt to the pot. Cover and return to the oven for 10 minutes, until the onions soften and take on a bit of colour.
Add another tablespoon of the oil to the pot, then stir in the sliced leek, celery and carrot, cover again and return to the oven for 15 minutes, until the vegetables have started to soften and get some golden-brown edges.
Once the vegetables have softened, stir in the garlic and tomato paste, and return to the oven, this time uncovered, for five minutes. Stir in the lentils, crisp lardons (if using), herbs, sherry vinegar and stock, and return to the oven, still uncovered, for another 20-30 minutes.
Meanwhile, arrange the squash rings in a single layer on an oven tray into which they’ll fit snugly, then season and douse with oil. Roast alongside the lentils for 20 minutes, until tender to the tip of a sharp knife, then take out of the oven to await the stuffing.
Now make the topping: mix the creme fraiche, egg and all but a heaped tablespoon of the cheese in a bowl. Mix the remaining cheese with the breadcrumbs and parsley in a small bowl.
Once the lentils have had a good time in the oven and have a nice, spoonable consistency – they need some liquid around them – season to taste, then spoon into the roast squash rings. Pour over the creme fraiche topping, scatter on the cheesy, herby crumbs and bake again for 20 minutes, until the top is bubbling and golden. Serve with some greens on the side, if you fancy.
Ok, if you have come this far with me, then I love you more than you can know. I apologise for the ranting, but somehow it needed to be done, here and now.
I had a really lovely and laid back Christmas and New Year period. Small but perfectly formed, delicious people and delicious food, with a lovely empty-ish in between time despite still being wracked with the pesky cough. The in between time is always shorter in actuality than it appears when viewed from 24th December and this one disappeared very quickly.
I wish only good things for 2026 to you my readers (one more and I will have 300, although some of you are a bit suspect - middle aged men, handsomely grizzled, wearing camouflage outfits and holding puppies… I am not sure you are here for the recipes). Blessings on you and your loved ones. (Mamdani is a reminder that it hasn’t quite all gone to hell - here’s hoping he can fulfil his promises and inspire the rest of the states). Let’s pray, whatever form that takes, for peace and if you can afford it please donate to some cause that is working toward that end - this is one I have chosen.





Best yet xx
Really appreciate the honesty about January not feeling like any kind of fresh start. Seems like everyone pushes this reinvention narrative but lik you said, its literaly just the next day, same weather, same everything. I remember trying to launch a side project in early Jan a few years back and it took twice as long because my brain was still in hybernation mode. The squash lentil combo sounds perfect for that exact mood.